


Last Christmas

by Mouldsee



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:26:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouldsee/pseuds/Mouldsee





	Last Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chocolet89](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=chocolet89).



So Yunho was back for the holidays.

 

Changmin stared at his phone, re-reading the message from Kyuhyun again.

 

_‘Saw Yunho-hyung at the dorms, didn’t hear you mention him being out for Christmas.’_

And that’s because he didn’t know.

 

When he used to be the first to know everything.

 

He was glad that he was in the privacy of his van and not in front of the rest of the staff and crew, because Changmin didn’t think he could hide the ache that threaten to overwhelm him. Yunho had taken time off from the army and hadn’t told him. Not a single call. Not even a stupid text. Not in almost a year.

 

_What the fuck, Jung Yunho. You fucking coward._

 

He wanted to hit something, someone. But he was alone, save for the driver that was in the front, oblivious to the backseat lone occupant’s sudden inclination towards violence.

 

Changmin leaned his head against the cold window pane hoping to cool off the burst of anger and stared out at the snowy streets of Seoul, currently jammed with cars fighting to maneuver their way to the centre of the city, in a rush to get to whatever Christmas gatherings and parties with friends and loved ones.

 

And somewhere out there in the city, probably laughing and having the time of his life was Yunho. Pretending that everything was okay, that last Christmas hadn’t happened.

 

Or perhaps he had forgotten.

 

_Yeah. You practically jumped the man. Nobody would ever forget something like that._

It was something he had been trying so hard to forget himself, but memories of that night a year ago still came back to haunt, mocking him in sharp technicolour detail, every word, look and touch, right down to the smell and taste of his best friend, every moment like a tattoo that he would probably carry on him for the rest of his life.

 

He had been drunk, on alcohol and his own despair, a combination that he had always been careful to avoid in front of Yunho. But that Christmas night, just two days before the older man was due to enlist, what had meant to be a farewell of sorts between the two of them had pushed Changmin to the edge.

 

It had meant to be a casual night in, just the two of them under one roof once again, for old time’s sake, Yunho had said. And Changmin had known it wasn’t the best idea, yet knowing that this was going to be the last time in a very long while that they were going to be like this. And he had said yes.

 

It had been safe, at first. The conversation had been kept within the boundaries of reminiscing, laughing over old jokes and gossiping about mutual friends. The alcohol flowed, and the talk dwindled into comfortable silence.

 

Eleven years of friendship and partnership meant that silence was just another way of listening; Changmin stared into the glass in his hand, senses attuned to the even breathing of the man beside him, and knowing, without even having to look up, that Yunho had shifted into a more pensive mood.

 

_Hyung, don’t._

 

“Changminnie, I’ve said this again and again, but it’s always easier to say it to the cameras,” Yunho was sprawled back on the couch, face flushed, eyes heavy lidded, as if he was about to fall asleep, but Changmin knew better, “Thank you.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Yunho huffed out a laugh, “I’m going to miss this.”

 

“Don’t say it like this is goodbye.”

 

“It is. For me.” His tone was matter of fact, “It’s leaving home. The question is, will it still be here when I get back?”

 

Changmin whipped around, disbelief and anger making him sound harsher than usual, “What kind of question is that? How could you even think…”

 

Yunho looked stunned at the vehemence of his response, as if not understanding just how much he had hurt him by asking that.

 

And he probably didn’t have a clue.

 

The frustration that Yunho had never had the minutest grasp of how he felt, drove him to say the things that he had buried within him for almost a decade.

 

“You told me to leave the first time we met. I stayed, for myself. But every time after that, it was for you.” Changmin bit out, now heedless of the implications of his words, “I’ll stay. Even if it’s just to wait.”

He would blame it on the alcohol later, or perhaps it was the absolute bewilderment on Yunho’s face that maddened him further, because there was no other explanation for why he had leaned across and kissed the other man hard on the lips. The kiss was meant to drive his point home, to say everything that he had wanted to say, but had been unable to find the words.

 

But everything changed the moment he felt Yunho lean back into him and his eyes fluttered close, a hand tentatively curving around his neck, lips pliant. He held all the desperation and ache at bay, gentling the kiss, lips brushing, fingers hovering to caress the delicate jaw, almost afraid to touch, as if touching would break the spell. 

 

But spells are made to be broken. Reality intruded too soon, and the lips beneath his stilled. Yunho drew back slowly, eyes wide, confusion marring his face. The hand that had threaded through Changmin’s hair with urgency a few minutes ago fell limp to his side.

 

And all Changmin could see was regret. He turned away and sat staring unseeing at the empty cans of beer and the half drunk glass of wine, unwilling to look at the other man, unable to apologize for his actions, selfishly letting the awkward silence do the job of pushing Yunho away.

 

He heard Yunho get up and then more stillness.

 

Changmin still refused to look.

 

“I think… I need to go.”

 

And that had been the last thing Yunho had said.

 

A rustle, Yunho picking up his jacket from the rack and then the sound of the main door shutting quietly.

 

Two days later, Changmin watched his best friend smile and wave at the cameras before heading off for another life from the safety of home.

 

That was three hundred and sixty-three days ago.

 

Changmin looked down at his phone, he still needed to respond to the text dammit, before Kyu got suspicious.

 

He could tell Kyu practically anything, but this, this was too painful to share.

 

_It totally slipped my mind ^^, tell him I said hi._

There. The ball was now in Yunho’s court. Let him make the excuses, Changmin thought bitterly. If there was one thing he hated about Yunho, it was his ability to tuck away his problems and pretend that everything was fine on and off camera.

 

The van drew into the parking lot at his apartment block, and the area was conspicuously devoid of fangirls. Even the most devoted of fans have taken time off from stalking his every move to celebrate Christmas with their friends and family.

 

At any other time, Changmin would have been delighted to be able to stroll into his apartment block without having to dodge the cameras and phones shoved into his face, but at this moment, he needed a distraction, anything but being left to his own thoughts.

 

He really should make his own plans, like, go home to see his parents, or maybe just call out some friends to get drunk. Who cares if the next day would be the twelfth anniversary of his and Yunho’s debut, because everything would be just a sham, just like their eleventh. Thank god for the pre-recordings that they did before it all went to the shits.

 

He would be an absolute Grinch, but that’s what friends are for anyway.

 

Changmin stood outside his front door and took out his phone to send off a text to the Kyuline; at least he would walk into his cold apartment with something to look forward to.

 

“Merry Christmas.”

 

He stiffened, fingers clenching around the edges of his phone, message forgotten.

 

That voice. That achingly familiar voice that he hadn’t heard in a year. Wishing him a merry Christmas like they were just picking up a conversation they’ve left off just yesterday.

 

It was classic Yunho.

 

And if that was how he wanted to play it, Changmin would go along, just like a good dongsaeng. Even if it killed him.

 

But wishing him a happy Christmas would be pushing it, shove him right into hell.

 

“Hyung.”

 

That was all he could manage as he turned to finally look at the man who had once been deeply entrenched in every part of his life.

 

Yunho looked thinner, slightly tanned even in winter, with his hair now black and cut closely to his head. The slightly tilted eyes were watchful, but a small smile played on his lips, and it curled wider when Changmin opened the door and gestured for him to enter.

 

Was that relief that he just glimpsed?

 

Changmin noted sadly that the silence that fell between them had changed, what had been easy quiet was now watchful, coloured with expectations, tinged with regret. He wanted to reach out and wipe it all away, just like how he wished he had never agreed to their last meet up, or say the things that would continue to haunt the both of them for the rest of their lives.

 

Yunho took a slow turn around the apartment, taking note of the furnishings and décor like he was looking at them for the first time. As far as Changmin was concerned, nothing had changed. He had put pains into the apartment that he had bought, decorating it himself, picking out the posters and home accessories painstakingly, just like how he did everything in life. And Yunho had been there every step of the way, giving his two cents worth, but largely ignored.

 

There was even that stupid tree that had he been reluctant to put up, but it went up anyway, something that Yunho had nagged into him since moving here over three Christmases back.

 

Why is he looking at everything like he’s never been here, like he’d not stayed over on countless occasions and made a mess out of every other room in the house?

 

Changmin wondered if Yunho had some sort of selective amnesia that had taken over (which would also explain the year-long silence). Or did he take a blow to the head in the army that made him more forgetful than usual?

 

Changmin shuddered at that thought, and a small bubble of a laugh threatened to escape him, extremely inappropriate given the circumstances, but somehow, Yunho always managed to do this to him. He swallowed it back down.

 

“Changmin ah,” Yunho was done with his inspection, and the half-smile was back, but his eyes were still cautious, “It looks like nothing has changed.”

 

Changmin shrugged, wondering where all this was going, “I don’t see why you think it would.”

 

“I like that.”

 

“Well thank fuck I didn’t put up the pole that I wanted to install since I took up pole dancing classes,” was his immediate response. It was habit. Just sheer habit that the snark had risen, unbidden.

 

Now why did he have to say that? Why did it have to sound so fucking suggestive? Changmin wanted to kick himself.

 

There was an unmistakable gleam in Yunho’s eyes this time. Although what it meant, he wasn’t sure. 

 

“Well,” Yunho said carefully, taking a step towards him, “It feels nice to be home for Christmas.”

 

_Oh._

 

The unfinished conversation from a year back _had_ been weighing on him too, and after silence, this was Yunho’s way of picking it up again.

Changmin waited, unwilling to give in the little bit of hope that had begun to seep in. He wasn’t the one who left and gone cold. Yunho had to be the one to provide the answers. Changmin deserved that much.

 

And Yunho knew it. He didn’t stop in his slow advance, but the gleam in his eyes earlier had faded, and in its place was gentleness.

 

“Last Christmas, what I wanted was for nothing to change,” Yunho said slowly, as if still trying to find the words, “…between us. Because it was perfect.”

 

They were. But Changmin had wanted more.

 

“But these three hundred and sixty five days,” he took another step, “made me come to the realization that actually, nothing did.”

 

Changmin couldn’t breathe.

 

“Because…” Yunho took a final step and stopped in front of him, eyes clear, “I was waiting all this time too.”

 

The pause was expectant, as if Yunho was waiting for an answer.

 

“I knew you were slow…but a year?”

 

There went his mouth again. He really had to stop. But Changmin couldn’t help it, perhaps the euphoria that was rising through him had gone to his brain and he just couldn’t find the right words to say Yes, you fucking idiot, after all this time, I’ve waited for you too.

 

And only Yunho would grin at the stupidity that came out of his mouth, that face-splitting grin that transformed his eyes to half moons, “You have no idea how much I missed that.”

 

_Would you shut up and kiss me now?_

He didn’t think he said it out loud this time, but Yunho seemed to have heard. Changmin felt himself being pulled forward, still in slight disbelief that this was happening, again, and this time it wouldn’t end as a cruel joke.

 

“Hyung…” the nibbling on his neck was extremely distracting, but there was one last thing that Changmin needed to get off his chest.

 

“Hmmm…?”

 

He shifted slightly and nipped at the vulnerable looking shell of the ear that was exposed to him.

 

“You forgot to take off your shoes.”

 

The half laugh, half groan was muffled in the crook of his neck.

 

“Welcome home.”

 


End file.
